You Are
by Dragonfly-Moonlight
Summary: Speed's life takes a drastic turn.
1. Chapter 1

The first day of September dawned warm and bright. Speed slowly opened his eyes and sighed. Another day had started and he was not looking forward to it.

Lately, things had not been very bright for Speed. He had lost a series of races to a bunch of newcomers onto the racing scene, raising Pops' ire with him. To make the situation with Pops worse, he had nearly totaled the Mach 5 in the last race, barely able to walk away from the wreckage. Pops had been so furious, Speed thought a vein would burst in his forehead. After the wreck, the racing commission had decided to do a random drug test, stating he'd been sloppy and careless.

'Maybe I have been a little sloppy and careless,' he thought as he got up. 'But I don't see how. I did everything that I was supposed to. And I didn't even take anything. I told them that.'

His word alone had not been good enough for the officials. However, those situations by themselves, Speed could have handled. The drug test was a minor obstacle, something that could be surpassed, and all Pops had to do was calm down and look at the video feedback for the race. He'd see that he had done nothing wrong. What Speed couldn't handle was being on the outs with Trixie and Sparky. He knew why Sparky was upset with him (trying to fix the Mach 5 while still on crutches was not the best idea) but he couldn't figure out why Trixie was mad at him.

'Guess I'll figure it out soon enough,' he mused. 'And I might as well accept the fact that everyone has a bad year. Unfortunately for me, this year just happens to be it.'

Within a few moments, Speed had showered, dressed and grabbed a quick bite to eat. Everyone was still sleeping and he didn't want to wake them. He'd had more than his fair share of Pops yelling at him. Quietly, he slipped out the door . . .

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On the outskirts of town rested a quiet, rambling mansion. The paint had been chipping and peeling for the past several years but the owners didn't mind. The more people stayed away, the better.

In one of the rooms, staring out a window, stood a dark-robed figure.

"All is in readiness."

"Good. We begin at midnight tonight."

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Speed whistled to himself as he walked. It felt good to be out in the warm sunlight, despite his earlier morning grumpiness. He felt warm all over and couldn't keep from smiling.

'Guess it's true what they say about sunlight affecting your mood,' he chuckled to himself. Light was how he felt and nothing, absolutely nothing, could destroy that.

'When was the last time I felt this way? It's been ages, I'm sure. Maybe I'll take a very long walk today, it's so nice out.'

A light breeze picked up, ruffling his dark locks and Speed held his arms out, as if ready to spread wings and fly away. He spent most of the day just wandering around Farmington Hills and visiting old haunts. No one bothered him. No one needed to. They knew who he was and knew he was always willing to stop in and say, "Hi." Speed never forgot where he came from.

Around dusk, Speed came upon the old, rambling mansion. He gazed at it with mournful eyes.

'Too bad this place has gone downhill in the last few years. I bet it was something when it was first built. I wonder what it looks like on the inside.'

"Can I help you, sir?"

Speed whirled around, heat rising in his cheeks. He hadn't expected anyone to sneak up on him. Behind him stood an elderly man, possibly in his late 50s, with salt and pepper hair and a butler's suit.

"N-no," he stammered. "I was just wondering what the house looked like on the inside. I didn't know anyone lived there."

"I see," the old man smiled. "Well, my master and I just moved here recently. I'm sure he wouldn't mind having a visitor. My name is Dimsley. Would you like to come inside?"

Speed hesitated. He had been gone all day and knew if he stayed out any later, Pops would skin him alive. Thunder rolled over head.

"I really should get home. . . Sounds like it's going to storm."

"I'm sure Mr. Shadows wouldn't mind giving you a ride to your home, sir . . ."

Speed still hesitated but for a moment only. "Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir. It isn't every day a racecar driver gawks at your residence."

Speed chuckled in embarrassment as they walked to the door. "Yeah. All the kids have always been curious as to what it looks like on the inside."

"No one's ever ventured in?"

"No. The adults said it was haunted and that the ghosts would eat us up."

"That would keep anyone away, wouldn't it?" the old man chuckled, opening the door and ushering Speed in. The inside looked opulent.

"Wow," he breathed as he looked around. "This place is magnificent!"

"We worked on the inside first. While the weather still holds, we'll be working on the inside. Could I offer you something to drink? We have bottled water and tea."

"No coffee?"

"No coffee," another voice said. "I prefer all natural beverages."

Speed looked at the man who had spoken. He had long, white hair, piercing grey eyes, pale skin, and a dark robe hanging around his shoulders. Despite his intimidating look, he wore a warm smile on his face and extended a hand out.

"My name is Red Shadows," he stated as they shook hands.

"Speed Racer."

"I'll get the tea ready, sir."

Dimsley disappeared, leaving them at the foot of a grand, winding stairwell. Speed searched for something to say. Mr. Shadows beat him to the punch.

"So, Mr. Racer. You're a racecar driver?"

"Yes, sir," Speed nodded. "Have for a couple of years now. You follow the races?"

"Dimsley does. He says you've been in a slump, though. How does that make you feel?"

He shrugged.

"It's a little frustrating but I had a good start. Everyone has a bad year or a bad few weeks. I guess it's just my turn to have a bad year."

"You're taking it rather well," Mr. Shadows commented. "Most would cry and complain about how hard they're having it."

"I could but it would be a waste of time. All I can do is strive to do better the next time and pull myself out, Mr. Shadows. No one else can do that for me."

"Please, call me Red."

"Tea is ready," Dimsley announced, interrupting the rest of the conversation. "This way."

They followed Dimsley to a small sitting room where a teapot and teacups awaited. Speed sat down where Dimsley indicated, feeling a little out of place. It felt formal, like they were in England. Dimsley poured him some tea. He took a drink as Dimsley walked out . . .

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His head pounded and Speed groaned as he sat up, holding a hand to his head. The last thing he remembered was drinking some tea with Mr. Shadows and talking. He noticed then that he had been laying in a bed and that he was wearing a white shirt and white pants but no shoes or socks. They were not his clothes. His eyes grew wide and he leapt out of bed.

'What happened? How could I not notice someone changing my clothes? Something's not right. I gotta get out of here.'

He ran for the door and flung it open, stopping short. Mr. Shadows stood there. Lightning crashed and thunder rolled. Rain pounded on the windows and the roof.

"You're awake. Come with me."

"Mr. Shadows . . . what's going on? Why am I not wearing my clothes?" Speed didn't budge.

"You'll see. Now . . . follow me."

Mr. Shadows turned to walk away. Speed remained where he stood, rooted in one place. Finally, he managed to speak.

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

The older man whirled around and slapped him across the face. It held enough force to slam Speed into the doorframe. He held a hand to his jaw and looked at the older man, too shocked to say or do anything else. A strange fire burned in Mr. Shadows' eyes.

"Follow me," he stated again, in a more commanding voice. Speed slowly rose to his feet, a hand still holding his jaw. He wasn't about to admit but it still stung.

Mr. Shadows nodded then turned again and walked down the hallway. Speed followed him in trepidation. The house was dark as they walked through it, the only illumination coming from the lightning. Speed thought about running for the front door for a brief moment. Then he saw that they were not alone and several people garbed in black robes were flanking him. Only he wore white.

'What is going on?'

Someone lit a candle and they descended into the basement. Two people grabbed Speed by his arms and dragged over to two wooden posts.

The posts were two feet taller than he was and had leather straps wrapped around them. There was enough room for him to stand between them and that was exactly where they placed him, between the two posts. They had started to tie him up, one arm to each post, and he tried then to get away but four more hooded people intercepted him. It took the six of them to get him tied up but they managed. They stepped away. Speed then noticed several candles had been lit and fear gripped him.

'This does not bode well,' he thought as Mr. Shadows walked to the center of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Red Shadows looked at the young man tied to the two posts, an athame in his right hand. Everyone scurried to get into position, forming a circle around the center of the room. One person brought forth a cobalt goblet and another brought forth a bottle of wine as a third stood behind the posts. Red, however, kept his eyes trained on the would-be initiate.

'He's the one. I know it. I can feel it. The ceremony will prove it. I only wish I knew how to explain what's going on to him.'

He heard the wine fill the glass. With the exception of the storm outside, that was the only noise in the basement. Red handed the athame to the wine- pourer and took a long, thin needle. He poked his finger and squeezed a small amount of his own blood into the wine. The person behind the posts picked up what looked like robe, poised to strike when necessary. Red took the athame back and a fresh sprig of sage. Somewhere, a clock tolled midnight.

'Time for the ceremony to begin.'

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Speed watched in slight horror and fascination as Mr. Shadows proceeded in this . . . ritual. He had not been idle in looking for a possible way to escape. Whatever was going on, he wanted no part of it.

A clock tolled midnight and everyone in the room grasped each other's hands, the two on either side of him touching the posts. Mr. Shadows dropped the sage into the wine goblet and advanced towards him, using his knife to mix the concoction. As he approached, Speed heard him mutter something yet couldn't make out the words. Mr. Shadows stopped in front of him, his eyes burning with an eerie flame. He held the goblet in front of Speed.

"Drink."

"N . ."

Something sang out then struck him across the back, pain erupting where the whip had landed. He lurched forward some but his bonds kept him firmly in place. The shirt he wore offered no defense against the weapon and Speed kept himself from crying out.

"Drink," Mr. Shadows commanded once more. Speed just glared at him. The whip cracked out once more, landing in the same area as the first hit.

"You must drink," Mr. Shadows told him, "or the pain will not stop."

"I'd rather have the pain," he managed to gasp. The older man just stared at him for a moment. Then he took a step back.

"You will change your mind."

Before he could reply, the person standing behind him lashed out with the whip again and again. Speed clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, his back hurting more and more each time the whip hit him. Yet he was determined to not cry out, not beg for the beating to stop. He couldn't, wouldn't let them win. Soon, the whip began to land in places it had already landed and blood trickled down his back. He could barely stand but he remained in place . . .mainly because of his bonds. A whimper involuntarily escaped him but no one said anything. No one stopped the person beating him. Then, through hazy, pain-filled eyes, he saw Mr. Shadows staring at him, the same eerie fire in his eyes, and he felt himself beginning to lose consciousness.

"I'll drink," he whispered, not fully realizing what he had just said until he said it. The whip landed a final time before Mr. Shadows raised a hand. There was no taking it back now.

"What did you say?"

"I'll drink," he whispered, a little louder this time. He tried to stand a little but the pain in his back had overridden the function of his knees. Mr. Shadows held the goblet to his lips. The warm liquid burned his throat but he drank it as greedily as he could. It had a strange texture and flavour - smooth was the best word he could come up with. The sage and the blood probably had something to do with that. Speed continued to drink until nothing remained in the goblet.

"Very good," Mr. Shadows murmured with a smile, taking the goblet away. "How did it taste?"

By now, Speed gasped for air. The pain in his back had not relented. In fact, it had grown worse and drinking the wine as quickly as he had was not helping. His head started to spin around, and he barely made out the question. The whip struck him once more.

"I'll ask once more. How did the wine taste?"

"Unnnnnnn . . ." Speed tried to answer but nothing came out. He formed the words. He knew he did but no sound escaped him save for a groan. His vision blurred with each passing moment and he felt for sure that he would black out. Speed waited for the whip to crack once more.

Instead, Mr. Shadows lifted his chin up so their eyes met once more. The eerie flame still shone in his eyes but there was something more, something Speed couldn't quite place.

"At last, I have found you, the one pure in body, heart, mind, and soul. Welcome home, Silver Shadows, my child."

Speed wanted to protest the name. That wasn't his name! His name was Speed Racer. Always had been, always would be.

His arms suddenly felt like jelly and he collapsed into the arms of Mr. Shadows. His pain instantly vanished as darkness claimed him.

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Red cradled his son in his arms. Tears flowed down his cheeks freely and he kissed the boy's forehead. It might take him a while to convince him that he was truly Silver Shadows but Red knew it beyond any doubts. Taking great care, he scooped him up and headed for the stairs.

"Do you need any help, Red?"

"No," he murmured. "I've got him."

Red carried his son's body back to the room where he had been resting before. Dimsley waited, several white washcloths piled up behind him and three basins filled with water. Candles lit the room. With Dimsley's help, Red rolled his son into the bed and removed the bloody clothing. He grimaced at the sight of the mangled back but it was only temporary.

'This is going to be a long night.'

The two men set about the healing ritual.

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Speed groaned. Both sides of his face hurt and his back felt on fire. It ruled out the possibility that last night had been a dream. A cool wash cloth dabbed at his forehead.

"Shhh, it's okay, Silver, it's okay. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"I'm not . . . Silver," he whispered, opening one eye. His vision had cleared a little so he could at least see the man who was talking to him.

"You are," Mr. Shadows insisted, still dabbing his forehead. "Last night proved it. Only a Shadows would have been able to drink that wine and not have it taste like ashes." A chill stole through him as he stared at his captor.

'He really believes I'm his son . . . This can't be happening. It just can't be.'

"We have a lot to do, my child, and not enough time. You need to regain your strength. A battle is brewing."

Speed felt his eyelids drooping. He remembered drinking the wine and the heady feeling it had given him. The washcloth had a soothing effect . . .

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He shivered but getting a blanket was out of the question. His wrists were strapped to a chair but why, he couldn't remember. He was fighting against something . . . against a name, he believed. Things had blurred and he just couldn't remember.

Footsteps. He heard footsteps and opened his eyes to see a tall man with long, white hair standing in front of him. Displeasure and sadness were written on his face. He wanted more than anything to take them away, though he couldn't even begin to reason why.

"I'm cold," he whispered. "Father, please . . . I'm cold."

A hand landed against his cheek with a resounding crack and he looked up, tears welling in his eyes. Why had he hit him?

"Father?"

The white-haired man knelt in front of him, locking eyes with him. A strange fire burned there. He'd seen it before, a long time ago it seemed. The displeasure and sadness he had seen moments were replaced with questions and hope. He searched for something in his eyes, a hint that he meant what he said.

"Father, please . . . I'm cold . . ."

"Yes, Silver. I know but you'll be warmer soon. Come. We have much to discuss."

The leather straps that held him in place were undone and Silver felt himself being lifted up by his father. It felt good to not be fighting anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

Red tucked his son into bed, watching as his shivering subsided a little. He had possibly caught a chill but Red knew how to remedy that. After all, Silver's breathing was steady and even and he didn't wheeze. A little colloidal silver and some hibiscus tea with echinacea would boost any immune system.

As he tucked his son in, Red thought about how lucky he was, knowing that his son was safe at home. His heart went out to the local family, the Racers, whose son disappeared several months before, the ceremony long since faded from memory. He just couldn't believe that Silver had thought he was Speed Racer.

'Crazy kid,' he shook his head. 'But then I was probably like that, too. Though, they do look very much alike.'

"Rest well, my child. Things are not over yet. In fact, they're just beginning." He kissed his son on the forehead and slipped out of the room.

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Inspector Detector tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the court clerk to retrieve the document he needed. He detested this procedure. It would have been simpler if Red Shadows had had a criminal record but the man was squeaky clean. He could have gotten a warrant to search the grounds the man now lived on but luck wasn't on his side.

"Here you go, Inspector."

"It's about damn time," he growled. Before the clerk could say anything else, he snatched the document and stalked out. He climbed into a police car and roared off.

Eight months. Eight long months had passed since Speed Racer had disappeared. All searches in the surrounding areas had proven fruitless yet one thing had remained consistent: Speed had been last seen in front of the old Winshire estate, talking to an elderly man dressed as a butler. His clothes had turned up in a local dump, along with a white shirt and a white pair of slacks, both covered in blood. The shirt had been shredded in the back. Forensics had concluded that a whip had done the ripping and that the shirt had been worn by Speed. DNA tests had proven the blood was his.

Yet, the tests had not been enough for the court to sign for a search warrant of Mr. Shadows' home. It had not been proven that Mr. Shadows had done anything to Speed, despite what neighbors had claimed. The police department had had a hell of a time trying to prove where the clothing had originated from but they had managed it. Finally.

In a matter of moments, the car pulled up in front of the old Winshire home and Inspector Detector strode purposely to the front. Several cars pulled up as he knocked on the door. An elderly man with salt and pepper hair answered.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes. I have a warrant to search these premises. Where is the owner, Mr. Shadows?" he demanded.

"Mr. Shadows is not here right now . . ."

"I'm right here, Dimsley . . ."

Both men looked at the person who had spoken and Inspector Detector's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe his eyes. Standing in the middle of a grand stairway and clad in a white poet's shirt and white pants was Speed Racer.

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Silver looked at the trench coat and fedora clad man with bright and curious eyes. He held a piece of paper in his hands but what had his attention was the look of shock on his face, like he knew him. His moustache even quivered slightly. Silver took another step down, his bare feet barely making any sound on the marble steps.

"I believe, young master, that the good officer is looking for your father," Dimsley stated.

"My father isn't here right now but I'm sure I can help . . ."

"What kind of a game is this?" the strange man shouted, interrupting what he was about to say. He looked very upset about something. Silver blinked.

"Game? What do you mean?" he asked confused innocence, taking another step.

"This . . . this debacle," came the sputtered response. "Your father does not live here. He's been worried sick about you, Speed!"

Speed. The name sounded familiar but Silver couldn't quite place it. Why did it sound so familiar? Then he remembered the newspaper he had read earlier. The police were still searching for a young man named Speed Racer, who had disappeared eight months ago. They had suspected foul play.

"I assure you, sir, that my father knows exactly where I'm at and that I'm safe."

"Speed . . ."

"My name is not Speed." His tone took a dangerous edge. "It is Silver Shadows and I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me that."

The man's jaw dropped once more. Silver folded his arms. He didn't like the way this was going and wanted this stranger to leave.

'Don't act like a spoiled brat,' he scolded himself. 'Father would be upset if you do.'

The strange man continued to look at him. It began to make him uncomfortable but he had not been prepared for what happened next. Before Dimsley could stop him and before Silver could react, the strange man had strode up to him and grabbed him by the arm. They were out the door in a flash.

"What are you doing?"

"You're coming with me," the man stated. "I spent eight months searching for you and I'm not about to let you stay there a minute longer."

"You can't do this," he protested. His feet landed in a mud puddle from the spring thaw.

"What do you think this warrant is for?"

"I'm not going with you." He tried twisting his arm free. He could make it back to the house if he did . . .


	4. Chapter 4

Pops paced the floor, his face furrowed into an expression of hope and anxiety. Inspector Detector had phoned him earlier, stating that he had gotten the search warrant for the Winshire estate and, if anything, would be bringing Red Shadows in for question. He had hurried over to the police station, wanting to hear everything as it happened.

Trixie, Sparky, Racer X, and Mrs. Racer had joined him at the station, each as anxious as he was to hear any news about Speed. Spritle and Chim Chim had been dropped off at a relative's house.

"Make way! Coming through!" someone shouted as a commotion began at the front doors. They looked up as several police officers came in, struggling with whoever they had apprehended.

'Whoever it is, he's putting up quite the struggle,' Pops thought. Then he saw who it was they were dragging in - his own son, Speed Racer.

He looked very adamant about getting away from the officers and he soon had a nasty gash on his forehead to prove it. Pops watched in fascinated horror as his son's head hit the frame of the door, stunning him. After that, they were able to drag him without too much of a hassle. A glint of silver around Speed's wrists shocked him even more. His son was under arrest? It became too much for Pops.

"What is going on around here?" he nearly shouted out. Inspector Detector, sporting a newly forming black eye, approached him.

"Mr. Racer, we need to talk," he murmured. The detective immediately pulled him into a private room.

"Inspector, what's going on? Why is my son in handcuffs? Why . . ."

The detective raised a hand, cutting off his next question. He then heaved a sigh and plopped into a chair.

"Handcuffing him was a necessity, I'm afraid, Mr. Racer. We did find him at the old Winshire home."

"Where is Mr. Shadows?"

"We have warrants out for him now. However, I'm not entirely sure we'll be able to make any charges against him stick."

"And why's that?" Pops demanded.

"Because Speed believes he's Mr. Shadows' son."

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Silver pulled and tugged as hard as he could on his bonds, despite the burning sensation creeping up his arm and the dizziness in his head. He didn't care about those things; he just wanted to go home. His father would be expecting him to be there, after all.

"Struggling won't do you no good," someone said. He didn't even bother to look at the speaker. "You might as well relax and wait for Inspector Detector and your father to come talk with you."

"Let me go," he whispered. "I've done nothing wrong. Please . . . let me go home."

"Hitting an officer is doing something wrong, young man. You, of all people, should know that by now."

Silver finally looked at the man and glared at him.

"And taking someone from their home for no reason is wrong, too," he retorted, "but I don't see anyone else getting in trouble."

The officer paid no attention to him and he turned his attention back to the offending handcuffs. His entire arm burned now and began to ache with a ferocity like never before.

'Must get them off. It hurts.'

He began twisting his arm every which way, trying to get his wrist through the cuff. Soon, it started bleeding but he paid no heed. He had to get out, just had to. Silver stood up and yanked on the cuffs. His efforts had not gone unnoticed.

"Sit back down, young man," someone warned. "You're in enough trouble as it is."

Silver didn't answer. He kept his focus on the cuffs and on getting home. His breathing grew heavier the more he struggled and the burning intensified. Yet the handcuffs did not yield.

'Gotta get out of here.'

A set of arms grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him back onto the bench. Silver glared at the man he had done so and instantly hated him.

'Coward. Hiding behind a mask.'

"You better listen to the officer, Speed," he said solemnly. "He's right. You're only making things worse on yourself."

"My name . . . isn't Speed," he spat out, trying to regain his breath. "It's Silver Shadows."

"No," he shook his head. "Your name is Speed Racer. You are the son of Pops Racer, the designer of the Mach 5."

"No, I'm not," he screamed. By now, he was gulping in air and his head spun in circles. His arm had gone numb from the burning and the pain. Something was wrong and he knew it. He needed, and wanted, to get back to his father.

"Calm down, Speed," the masked man soothed. "You're going to be all right. We'll get you some help."

"My name," Silver panted, "is NOT Speed. Don't EVER call me that again. Just go away and leave me alone."

"Speed . . ."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" he shouted, rising to his feet. The man took a step back, his hands in front of his chest.

"Okay, okay . . . I won't call you that . . . Just calm down. You're going to hurt yourself if you don't."

"I don't care," he snapped. "I just want to go home. My father will be worried about me and I don't want him to worry."

The man in the mask said nothing to that. At least, Silver didn't hear him say anything. He closed his eyes for a moment, to regain his composure, and then remembered nothing more.

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Racer X quickly reached out and caught his brother as he fell forward, unconscious. His brow was lined with perspiration, his temple dripped blood, and his breathing was heavy. Racer X just happened to glance down and notice his hand. Blood ran from his wrist down the length of his fingers. His attempt to humour Speed had come too little too late.

'But why is the rest of his hand beet red?'

"Is he all right?"

Several officers had crowded around by now and the one guarding Speed quickly unlocked the cuffs. Instantly, Speed cradled his arm and groaned, shivering violently. Racer X had to lower him to the floor so he wouldn't fall.

"We need a blanket . . ."

"Getting one now."

"What is going on?" a voice demanded.

Racer X looked up to see a tall man with long white hair, pale grey eyes and pale skin towering over him. A black robed had been draped over his shoulders. He frowned at the scene before and he pointed at Racer X.  
"What are you doing with my son?"

By now, everyone, including the Go Team, stared at the stranger, disbelief written on their faces. What chilled Racer X was the look in the man's eyes. This man was no crackpot and had not taken his brother away simply for the sake of having a famous person as his child. He truly believed that Speed was his son.

Not even waiting for an answer, the man immediately converged on Racer X and his younger brother. He thought about tackling the man, anything to stop him from taking Speed away but found he couldn't move. His feet wouldn't budge no matter how much he willed them to so.

The man snatched Speed out of his arms and cradled him, just as he had done. He searched him over, as if looking for any kind of sign that he had been hurt.

'Or maybe that his brainwashing may unravel.'

Breathing a sigh of relief, the man cradled Speed in his arms and whispered something to him. Racer X could barely make out the words. Then he stood up, still holding onto Speed, and exited. It took everyone a moment for it to register what had just happened but it was too late. When they got outside, there was no sign of the man or Speed anywhere.


	5. Chapter 5

Red cradled his son close to him. He cursed the luck that had taken him out of the house that day. Now his son's life had been thrust into mortal danger.

'If I hadn't gone out, this wouldn't have happened. Now they'll know. Gotta get him out of here. He isn't ready.'

Dimsley waited outside with the car and Red climbed in, keeping Silver as close to him as possible. The butler pressed his foot to the gas pedal, causing the car to roar off.

"Where to, sir?"

Red's mind raced. They could go back to the house but it would leave them as sitting ducks. He did not wish to risk it.

'Could take him to the retreat. They can't touch him there . . . but they can burn him out. Damn. Why did this have to happen?'

"The airport," he suddenly blurted out. "To the airport, Dimsley. We need to leave the country. Now."

"Very well, sir."

His mind made up and clear, Red tended to his son and grimaced when he saw just how red his right arm was. He rolled up the shirtsleeve and grimaced even more. His son's arm, from his fingertips all the way to his shoulder, had turned beet red, the veins and arteries very pronounced, and he shivered. The handcuffs that had held his son prisoner had not been purified. Poison from impure souls had entered his son's body.

"Dimsley . . ." he began.

"Yes, Mr. Shadows?"

"We need to make a stop along the way . . . We have a bigger problem than we could have imagined."

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Pops lit another cigarette. He knew he shouldn't smoke but when he felt himself reaching the end of his limit, he couldn't help himself and he currently was at the end of his limit. His son had flat out declared he was not who he was. That shook Pops to no end. Had Speed gotten so angry with him for not believing in him that he would forsake everything he had ever known and loved? Pops didn't want to believe so but his son's words echoed in his mind. "My name is not Speed . . . Don't call me that . . ."

"Mr. Racer . . ."

Startled out of his thoughts, he looked at the speaker, Racer X. He let out a shaky sigh.  
"Are you going to be all right, Mr. Racer?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah . . . I guess I will be . . ."

"You guess?"

He sighed shakily once more.

"No . . . I'm not all right, Racer X. I can't help but think that this is my fault. If I hadn't been so hard on him, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Why would he let anyone convince him that he isn't who he is?"

"I don't know, Mr. Racer," the masked man said solemnly. "But I will find out and I will bring Speed back."

"I know you will," he smiled. "But it doesn't take away the guilt that's nagging away at me."

"You're not to blame for any of this. This Mr. Shadows is obviously very adept at brainwashing people. With a little bit of luck, Speed will see that. We just have to have faith in that."

Pops nodded, crushing out his cigarette. Racer X was right. They only needed to have faith that their son would be returned to them and that he would know who he was. He smiled at the mysterious figure in his son's life.

"Thank you, Racer X."

"Don't mention it, Mr. Racer. Don't mention it."

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The pounding in his head would not go away and he had a funny feeling he was in motion. Fearing that those strange people were taking him to a hospital - such places did not believe in homeopathic medicine - Silver opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn't. Bright lights greeted his eyes, causing the pounding to be even more painful.

"Make it stop," he whimpered, unable to bear it. "Please just . . . make it stop . . ."

"Shhh, it's okay, Silver, it's okay," a voice cooed to him. "You're safe. No one's going to harm you. Here. Here's something for the pain."

A mug was pressed to his lips and he drank slowly. The pounding began to ease and he could keep his eyes open without having to squint. His father's face greeted him and he smiled.

"Father . . ."

"Yes, child. I'm here."

Silver sighed in relief as his father cradled him in his arms. He felt safe there, like no harm could come to him. Yet, his behaviour weighed heavily on his mind. He knew better than to act like that.

"I'm so sorry, Father."

"Sorry?" came the inquiry. "Sorry for what, Silver?"

"For being selfish," he whispered. "Everything happened so fast . . . I didn't mean to . . ."

"Shhh," Red murmured. "It's okay. You were scared and you had every right to be. There's no telling what could have happened while you were there."

"I know better, though . . ."

"I know, child. Just relax. You won't have to worry about seeing them every again."

"I won't?"

"No," he shook his head. "We're leaving. By taking you from the sanctity of our home, your life has been thrust into danger. I need to get you to a safe haven."

"A safe haven? Why, Father?" Silver sat up. "You're not going to leave me, are you?"

"No, child. I won't leave you. Ever," Red promised.

"We're at the airport, sir," Dimsley announced.

"We must hurry. Here. Put these on. They won't let you in if you do not have them."

Silver regarded the shoes in disdain. He hated wearing shoes.

"You can take them off once we're in the air, Silver," his father told him. "Hurry. We must go. Now."

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Racer X sped all the way to the airport, the police right behind him. They had received word that Red Shadows had been spotted there, ushering Speed inside. Hopefully the airport wouldn't allow them to take off.

'Hang on, Speed. We're coming.'

At the airport, he raced through, picking his way through the throngs of people to reach the gate that Red had taken Speed through. He figured Red would only wait for so long before taking off without permission and he hoped to reach Speed before that could happen. However, as he got to the terminal, he saw the private jet taking off into the sky.

"NO!"

He hurled himself against the glass but to no avail. The glass remained intact and the jet flew higher from the ground.

"Dammit," he muttered. Several security and police officers had gathered around him and watched in sadness then in shocked horror as the jet carrying his younger brother burst into flames.


	6. Chapter 6

Mrs. Racer stared blankly at her hands. In them, she held a family photo, a shot of happier times. Nine months had passed since her son had disappeared and a month had passed since the plane he'd been on exploded in a giant fireball. No survivors or bodies had been found. It left her with the burning question of why.

The frame fell out of her hands and crashed onto the floor. Glass scattered everywhere.

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He wrung out the washcloth for what seemed like the hundredth time and placed it on the forehead of the person lying on the cot. The figure burned with a fever, a fever that had gotten out of control. However, they had no supplies to combat disease. Everything they had had been lost in the explosion and he did not dare venture out to retrieve the supplies they so desperately needed. He just hoped that Moon and Grey would show up soon. They had not been on the plane and could still move about unnoticed. At least, he hoped that they could still move about unnoticed.

A low groan caught his attention as the man on the cot turned, trying to ease the fire that had been consuming him. Quickly, he grabbed a cup and filled it with water from a nearby pitcher. He noted sadly that it had run out. Again.

"Dimsley . . . we're going to need more water," he croaked out. His own throat had become sore and dry from lack of water. Dimsley was hard pressed to find water without exposing anyone to their location.

"I shall try my best, sir. How is he doing?"

Silver looked up, his face and clothing still smudged from smoke and ash. Tears filled his eyes and he turned his attention back to his father. Red had an ashen appearance and he had not opened his eyes in days.

"I'm afraid my father is dying, Dimsley."

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Racer X heaved a sigh and flicked out his cigarette. It was a disgusting habit, he knew, but he couldn't help it. He had snuck cigarettes from Pops for years before running off and had become addicted.

'It's a wonder neither Mom nor Pops caught me,' he mused idly as he carefully picked his way over a dirt trail. It was deep in the woods, about fifty miles away from the explosion site. He didn't know why he had come out here. Racer X simply felt the need to investigate a little further than what the police were. He refused to accept the fact that Speed had not survived the explosion. Speed was far too clever and strong for something like that.

A slight movement caught his attention and he quickly crouched out of sight, years of training kicking in. He was thankful that he had. The movement he had seen had been the black jacket Dimsley, Mr. Shadows' butler, wore. Curious as to what the butler was up to, Racer X followed him, being mindful to not step on anything that would signal his presence.

Dimsley carried a large porcelain pitcher as he made his way to a nearby stream. It had taken him at least fifteen minutes to get to the water, five to fill it as full as he could, and another twenty to make his way back to an old, abandoned cabin. Racer X crept up to a window and peered in. His heart nearly leapt for joy when he saw his younger brother inside, tending to a stricken Red, but alive and well.

'Now how do I get him away from Red?'

At that moment, Dimsley entered the room and took a basin that had been resting next to Speed. He emptied it out and filled it with more water. Speed's vigil over Red continued for a few more moments then Racer X decided to make his move. There was no other way.

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Silver plunged the washcloth back into the cool water and placed it back on his father's forehead. The cloth had turned a dull grey from so many uses but it was the only one he had. He wondered how his father had coped when he had fallen ill.

'I hope someone comes soon. We can't stay here forever.'

A knock on the door sent him whirling around, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Moon and Grey were still at least another day or so away. He could sense it. So who was knocking on the door? Silver glanced at Dimsley.

"I'll get it," he whispered. As Dimsley made his way to the door, Silver grabbed the nearest object and poised it in a defensive stance. Dimsley stood behind the door as he opened it. Silver fought back a gasp as the person stepped inside.

"What do you want?" he growled as he tightened his grip on his weapon.

"Take it easy," the masked man said, his hands in a placating gesture. "I've been looking for you. I came to help."

Silver narrowed his eyes at this man. He had not forgotten his first encounter with him. The masked stranger had called him Speed after he had repeatedly made it clear that he was not.

"How do I know I can trust you?" he demanded. "How do I know you're not going to trick and take me back to that . . . that place?"

Silver waited for his answer.

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'Damn. This is going to be a little trickier than I had expected. He's in too deep.'

"You'll just have to take my word for it," he replied.

"Why should I take the word of a man who wears a mask? For all I know, you could be the most dishonest man alive."

"I wear this mask for many reasons, Silver," Racer X stated evenly. "But I assure you that I am an honest man and if I give you my word, I will keep it."

"You promise that you won't take me to those people?"

'He's awfully adamant about staying away from them. Red must have . . .'

At that moment, he locked eyes with his younger brother then understood. Red had not brainwashed Speed. He had unleashed something in Speed, something very powerful, and it would not rest until its task had been seen through. As much as he hated to, he still had to play along.

"I won't take you to them against your will. However, you will have to face them sooner or later. They are responsible for you."

The young man before him seemed to consider it. Slowly, he lowered his weapon. Racer X examined him closely.

"You're tired," he observed.

"I'll survive," Silver mumbled, sitting back down. He checked the damp cloth that rested upon Red's brow then re-wet it. Racer X approached him in caution.

"I can watch over him, Silver . . ."

"No, I will," he murmured. "He watched over me when I was ill. I'll do the same for him."

"You need to get some rest, Silver. You're not doing him any good by wearing yourself out. I can watch over him."

Again, he hesitated. Racer X saw that he wanted to get some sleep but, at the same token, did not want to leave Red's side. He had to think of something and think of it quick before Speed dropped from exhaustion. Racer X looked at Dimsley.

"Are there any extra blankets here?"

"There are a few," the butler replied. "Against the wall."

"Good," he nodded then turned his gaze towards Speed. "You need to get some sleep. We can set up a makeshift bed for you against the wall. That way you're not too far and I can wake you instantly should his condition change. Please . . . get some rest."

He received no answer. Carefully, Racer X lifted him up and moved him towards the wall where Dimsley had already made a bed. Once Speed had been tucked in and fallen asleep, he sat next to Red Shadows. The man burned with a fever.

"He needs medicine," he murmured, "and a doctor."

"The Shadows are unique, good sir," Dimsley stated, moving to sit next to him. "Conventional medicines make them ill. Violently ill and they started calling it poison. Most doctors don't understand that. We have clan members bringing the necessary supplements to heal Red."

"I see . . ." He checked the cloth and he noticed the butler staring at him.

"Your presence here is putting Silver in danger."

"I doubt that, Dimsley."

"It is true, sir," the other man insisted. "The Inspector should not have taken Silver from the house. As soon as he stepped out, they knew. They are looking for him."

"They? They who?"

"The ones who wish to kill him. He is the last pure soul in the world."

That caught Racer X's attention. The last pure soul in the world? What did that mean?

"I'm sorry, I don't quite follow that. The last pure soul in the world?"

"Yes," Dimsley nodded. "The last pure soul in the world."

"Why do I not believe that?"

"It isn't for you to believe," came the reply. "It isn't for anyone to believe."

"But why say it then? He can't be the last."

"Ah, but he is," Dimsley nodded. "The world is changing, Racer X, and not for the better. Not everyone born hereafter will have the same purity as Silver. Not everyone will have a choice. There are sick people in this world, people who would take advantage of young children and then some. Wars will still brew and everything will become a battle for empire."

"And by hiding Silver away, you mean to prevent all of this?"  
"Not hiding to prevent, Racer X. Hiding to train. He is the last hope we have."

"Last hope?" he echoed.

"Yes," Dimsley confirmed. "Our last hope. See, we can't prevent total catastrophe. Those people will always exist but most of it can be prevented. There is still some good left in this world and that's what Silver will be fighting for when the time comes."

"And if they find him before the time comes?"

Dimsley gazed at him.

"Mr. Shadows' private plane exploding not convincing enough?"

Racer X shivered, thinking about how he had felt when he had seen the plane explode after take-off. He felt as if someone had robbed him of a very prized possession that day. It was a day he did not want to repeat.

"Come, we have to prepare," Dimsley stated, rising from his seat.

"Prepare? Prepare for what?"

"For Red's healing ceremony."


	7. Chapter 7

Breathe. He couldn't breathe. Hands had circled around his neck and began to choke him. He knew it.

"It's a dream. A dream. I'm with my father and I'm safe," he told himself but when he awoke, he found that it was not to be. Someone indeed had his hands around his neck and had begun to strangle him, someone with pale, sallow skin and hollow eyes. When his assailant saw that he had opened his eyes, he immediately shoved him into a corner and chained him by his neck to the wall.

"Good. You're awake," he spat. "The master will be so pleased."

The man stalked off and Silver managed to get his bearings and looked around as best he could. In one corner, he saw Dimsley, his forehead bloodied and bruised. The butler remained unconscious. In another corner, he saw the masked man but couldn't make out his condition. He saw no signs of his father.

"Dimsley," he croaked. "Dimsley, wake up."

The response he got came not from Dimsley but from the masked man.

"He won't wake up, Silver. They knocked him out rather well."

"What happened?" he whispered. "I don't remember anything."

"You wouldn't," came the reply. "You were sleeping when they snuck up on the cabin and attacked."

"My father . . . what happened to my father?"

"I don't know, Silver. I think they left him for dead."

"Dead?" he whispered.

"I'm afraid so."

Silver leaned his head back and closed his eyes. This did not bode well for them. He didn't know who had attacked them - his father had not told him much about the task that had been set before him. They had not the time nor the luxury.

"Silver?" the masked man inquired quietly, breaking the brief silence.

"What?"

"Do you know who these people are?"

"No . . . I don't."

"Not even a feeling?"

Silver opened his eyes. "I have a feeling, yes."

"What's it telling you?" he prompted.

"We're in trouble."

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"Where's my son, dammit!" the huge bulk of a man roared. Red just stared at him, his head pounding from a thousand hammers. He had no idea as to what the other man was talking about.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he murmured. "Please. Just leave me be."

Red closed his eyes, hoping that the man would leave him be. He needed to reach his son. His son's life depended on it.

"I'm talking to you!" came the bellow. Red winced and opened his eyes. This would not do. This would not do at all.

"I told you I don't know what you're talking about," he snapped weakly. "Now please leave me be. I need to concentrate."

"Mr. Shadows, we can't do that," another voice piped in. "We need some answers from you. We need for you to tell us where Speed is and what you've done to him."

Red sighed wearily.

"How many times do I have to say it? I don't know where Speed Racer is and I've done nothing to him. Please . . . leave me be."

"THAT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH!"

Red closed his eyes, an attempt to keep from wincing. The men were relentless and they had no idea as to what they were keeping him from.

'No matter. I can do this. I need to reach Silver. Now.'

Tuning out surrounding noises, Red took a deep breath and concentrated. If he couldn't reach Silver then all was lost.

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Rex looked at his brother and felt a pang of guilt. Dimsley had been right. He had put his brother in danger but how, he had no clue.

"You smoke, don't you?"

Rex blinked.

"Come again?"

"You smoke, don't you?" came the question as Speed/Silver adjusted himself as best he could. The chain around his neck prohibited most of his movements.

"Yeah . . . Why?"

"I can smell it," he answered. "It's stifling."

"Stifling?"

"Yeah," Speed/Silver nodded some, his voice quiet. "I felt sick when I smelled it."

"How so?" This had Rex's attention. Cigarette smoke had never bothered his brother before.

"I'm not sure. I just felt sick when you were standing next to me. I've never felt sick around anyone before."

A door clanging open interrupted any further conversation and the same man from before approached his brother.

"Time to go, Silver Shadows," he sneered.

"Leave him alone."

"Shut up, you. This doesn't concern you," the man growled, unlocking the chain and roughly grabbing Speed/Silver by his hair. Both men reacted quickly. His brother lashed out just as the other man punched him in the stomach. The blow knocked the wind out of him. Rex heard the air leaving him. In an instant, they were gone and Rex had a sinking feeling that his brother was about to become a sacrificial lamb.

'Hang on, Speed. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I swear it.'


	8. Chapter 8

"Would ya stop pacing and relax, Trixie? You're giving me a headache!"

The young brunette girl whirled around and glared at the red-haired youth slouching in his chair. Somewhere out there, Speed was in trouble and needed their help. How could he just sit there and tell her to relax!

"How can you say that?" she hissed. "This isn't a time to be joking! Speed's out there, probably hurt! He needs us to be doing _something_! _Anything_!"

"There isn't anything we _can_ do, Trixie," he pointed out. "Not until we know where he's at. And I wasn't joking . . . Just watching you is really giving me a headache. Please, sit down. Before you wear yourself out."

"You're right," she sighed, slumping into a chair. "It's just that . . . I can't stand being here . . . not being able to do anything to help Speed."

"I know," Sparky murmured. "I feel the same way, too. But we have to wait until Inspector Detector comes in and tells us what he's found out."

Trixie merely nodded and stared down at her hands. Truth to be told, she blamed herself for everything that had happened over the last several months. If she hadn't been so jealous over nothing, Speed wouldn't have gone to Red Shadows' mansion in the first place.

'It's my fault,' she bemoaned to herself. 'My fault.'

"Ms Vanderbucks?"

Trixie's head shot up at the formal use of her name. Only the family servants referred to her by that name. She turned in the direction of the voice . . . then felt her jaw drop. In the doorway to the waiting room stood a man who could only be described as gorgeous. He had to be at least six feet tall with a lean, muscular build. His short blonde hair curled slightly at the ends, giving it a feathering appearance, and the way his emerald eyes glinted and shone in the light . . . The blood rushed to her face, turning it crimson, she was sure.

"I'm Ms Vanderbucks," she replied. "You are?"

"Edmund Light," he replied, smiling a little. "I'm here on behalf of Mr. Red Shadows . . . It's about your friend, Speed."

"What about Speed?" she exclaimed, stepping towards him. "Is he all right? Where is he?"

"He's quite all right," the man assured, still wearing that charming smile of his. "Dimsley, Mr. Shadows' butler, called me about half an hour ago . . . Speed needs you, Ms Vanderbucks. He's been restless ever since he's learned of Red's deception towards him and keeps asking about you."

"He's been asking about me?" Trixie felt her heart skip a beat. Edmund nodded.

"Yes, he has. If you'd like I can take you to him now."

"Would you?"

Before he could answer, she'd already grabbed her jacket and walked to the door. "Let's go then."

"What about me?"

Trixie turned to face Sparky. She'd nearly forgotten about him in her haste.

"Tell your friend, the inspector, that Speed is at this location," Edmund stated, handing Sparky a piece of paper. "He'd like to make a statement as soon as they get a chance. Let us go, Ms. Vanderbucks."

He wrapped an arm around her as they left.

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Silver Shadows let out a frustrated sigh. No matter what he did, it all amounted to the same thing in the end. He was stuck. Metal shackles had him stationed, spread-eagle, in one place and that happened to be a large stone slab in the center of the room. Around him were people wearing white hoods and robes, and he had a faint feeling of deja vu.

'I've been here before,' he thought. 'Or at least in a similar situation. Is this how Father found me? He told me that we hadn't always been together, that he had to look for me . . . Were these people torturing me before he found me?' A swell of anger rose in him but he quickly squashed it. Now was not the time to allow anger to get the best of him.

'Breathe. Just breathe,' he told himself. 'There's a way out of here, there just has to be. You just need to calm down and _think_.'

Silver closed his eyes, allowing his body to relax and his mind to wander. Inhale deeply then exhale and repeat. That's what his father had taught him. It was the first step in gaining an advantage over an enemy. Idly, he berated himself for not remembering it sooner, like when the strange police officer had grabbed him from his home.

'Too late now . . . Just have to focus on the here and now . . . and stopping these people from whatever it is they're going to do.'

He lifted his head as he half-fancied the sun hitting his face and warming his soul. There was hope, after all.

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"Drink this," Edmund commanded, handing his companion a red-tinted goblet filled with a dry white wine and a little extra. They had just arrived to his master's estate and gone inside. The girl looked around anxiously for the dark-haired man who now called himself Silver Shadows.

"She is the key to defeating him," Pure had told him. "I can feel it. Go. Retrieve her now. We shall be ready for you when you get back."

So retrieve the Go Team's navigator he had. The entire drive he kept having to reassure that "Speed" was fine and wanted to see her though he felt himself losing patience towards the end.

"What's this?" Trixie inquired, taking the offered drink.

"Something to help you relax," he lied smoothly. "You've been on edge for some time now. I can see it in your posture. Wouldn't want to be too tense for Speed when you see him, now would you?"

"No," she shook her head then drank the liquid. Edmund hid a smile as he watched her swoon, her eyes closing then she fell forward. With a cat-like grace, he caught her and swung her so that he held her, bridal style.

"There we go. All nice and quiet," he purred. "Time to get this show on the road."


	9. Chapter 9

Racer X struggled against his bonds then fell back against the wall when the chains wouldn't yield. He'd already stretched them out as far as they would go, which had maybe been an inch from he sat. But he didn't dare give up. He _couldn't_ give up.

'Speed needs me,' he kept telling himself. 'Come on, there's got to be a way out of this!'

"You should take a break, sir," Dimsley commented. The salt-and-pepper haired butler had awoken some time ago but had not moved from his spot.

"I can't," he growled. "Speed's in danger. I can't let anything happen to him."

"But you won't do him, or yourself, any good if you rip your limbs off," the older man pointed out. "Besides, I have something that might just help us both out."

"Huh?" The older Racer son tilted his head at the old man across from him. A sly grin appeared on Dimsley's face as the fingers of his right hand reached into the cuff of his sleeve and pulled out a rather sophisticated-looking lockpick. Seconds later, Dimsley's bonds were off and the old butler shuffled his way over to him.

"You have a good heart, Racer X," he murmured, picking the locks on the shackles. "That I admire. But there is only so much that you can. You can't be everywhere all the time."

Racer X slowly stood up, rubbing his wrists.

"I'm not going to stay here and wait for Speed to be murdered. Not if I can prevent it."

"Are you sure that Silver is going to die?" Dimsley inquired, his feet barely making a sound as he strode to the door. "He has strength to him, that boy. Have a little faith. You may be surprised."

"We can't just stay here! Not when they're about to make him some sort of sacrificial lamb. You said yourself that there are people who want to kill him!"

"No," the butler shook his head, "we cannot. We will surely die if we do. And I do know what I have said, Racer X. However, I also have faith in the young master. But staying here is not something I intend to do. I have something else in mind."

"Then what are you suggesting, Dimsley?"

"Follow me, my good sir, and you shall find out."

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He had a hard time opening his eyes. A heavy weight had somehow found its way from his chest to his eyelids, making it difficult for him to wake up.

'But I have to wake up,' he told himself. 'My boy . . . He's in danger.'

Red forcefully opened his eyes and gazed blankly at the white ceiling above him. He'd been drugged. He felt the sedatives running through his veins. But he wasn't about to let it stop him. All he had to do was get the drugs out of his system.

'Easier said than done but do it I must.'

Once things started coming in clear and crisp, Red started moving his arms about. Sluggish at first but within moments he was pushing himself up and ripping the monitor cords off him. He'd probably set off some alarms but he'd deal with it at a later time. One thing and one thing only had entered his mind.

'Get to Silver.'

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"Where are we going?" Racer X whispered. It hadn't taken him or Dimsley very long to get out of their bonds and their cell. Subduing the guards had been relatively easy as well and Racer X had to admit . . . Dimsley delivered one hell of a punch, having knocked a few guards single-handedly himself. But, instead of heading up, the two men were heading down winding stairs and barred doors.

"To the heart of the mansion," Dimsley replied. "Where they are keeping the young master. However, we cannot enter that room."

"How do you know all of this?"

"Their mansions are not that dissimilar from our own, Racer X. In each one, there is a room that is specialized for performing ceremonies and rituals, a room that only members of the clan or those with permission may enter. We want the room two doors away . . . If they are anything like the Shadows Clan, it shall be painted to symbolize what Clan they are."

"And what are they going to do to him?" he inquired, holding his breath some. He'd had a very bad gut feeling that he knew what these strange people were going to do with his younger brother. He just didn't want to hear it. "Be honest with me, Dimsley."

"They are going to use him," Dimsley replied. "At least, they shall try to. If he refuses, they shall kill him. They do not want his full powers to manifest. It is deadly for them if he does. That is why they will go after another."

"Another?"

"Yes. Someone who they feel will be able to defeat him by defiling his soul."

"Who would that be?" Racer X demanded.

"That I do not know," Dimsley stated. "I am not a member of their family so I don't know who they would pick."

"Who are they?"

"They are the Light Clan."

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Silver's eyes slowly fluttered open. His father was free and coming for him. He could feel it.

"Don't worry, Father," he whispered. "I won't give in. No matter what."

"Hello, Silver," a female voice purred seductively. Fingers danced suggestively across his chest and he lowered his head to see a petite, chestnut-haired beauty in front of him, her lips bright red. "I think you'll change your mind about not giving in. After all . . . I've been waiting for you."


	10. Chapter 10

"Here we are," Sparky murmured. "There doesn't appear to be anyone here, though."

He, Pops Racer, and Inspector Detector got out of the car and walked towards the ramshackle shack. Sparky checked the card again and frowned. The address was right. But he didn't see any signs of Edmund Light, Trixie, or Speed.

"Where is everyone?" the inspector murmured. "I don't see anyone at all."

"Nor do I," Pops stated.

"I don't get it," Sparky sighed. "This is the address he gave me. He _told_ me and Trixie that Speed wanted to give a statement!"

"And he lied to you," a voice declared quietly. All three men whirled around to see Red Shadows standing behind them. Sparky's jaw dropped. The last he had seen of this man, Red had been hooked up to monitors and IVs, and suffering from a mild contusion to the head. He shouldn't have even been out of his bed!

'Yet, here he is,' Sparky marveled, glancing over the man. 'No injuries whatsoever! How is that even possible!'

Apparently Red noticed him staring and smiled. He lightly tapped his temple a couple times.

"It's all in the mind, young sir," he winked. "All in the mind. As for the one who told you that Speed was here, he was lying."

"And why should we believe _you_?" Pops snarled. "You've lied to us, too."

"I have?" Red blinked. "And how is that?"

"By saying you don't have my son!" the Racer patriarch roared. "You kidnapped _my_ son! You _brainwashed_ him into believing that he wasn't!"

Red merely shook his head.

"I did no such thing, Mr. Racer. Again, I'm very sorry that your son has disappeared but Silver is _my_ son. Someday you'll see it, same as I do. Now. Young man, who told you that your friend was at this place?"

"A man by the name of Edmund Light," Sparky stammered. "He took Trixie with him, stating that Speed had wanted to see her."

"I see," Red murmured thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "So that's their plan. Devious. Very devious. But foolhardy."

"What? What are you talking about, Mr. Shadows?" Sparky exclaimed, his eyes growing in alarm.

"They plan to use your friend against my son . . . They want her to kill him if he does not comply with their demands."

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"Are you sure about this, Dimsley?" Racer X whispered, unable to tear his gaze away from the screen. On it, Speed/Silver was strapped to a table, spread-eagle, and Trixie . . . he didn't even know what she was doing there but, judging by the pained expression on his brother's face, Racer X knew it wasn't good.

"Quite sure, sir," the old butler nodded, keeping _his_ gaze averted. "All I need to do is find the switch that controls the table the young master is strapped to. Once it is flipped, he shall be free."

"And what then, Dimsley? What will happen then?"

"I don't know. It's up to the young master after that."

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Silver fought back a moan as the young woman before him kept sending jolt after painful jolt of electricity through him. He knew who she was supposed to represent, though how he hadn't been able to explain. It was just something he knew.

'But she's doing a pathetic job,' he grimaced, trying his best not to move. Movement meant more pain. 'I expected worse than this.'

"Tell me, Silver," she purred. "Are you going to join us? Or would you rather I continue until your death?"

"I'll never join you," he ground out through clenched teeth. "Not even in death will I join you."

"Too bad," she pouted, twisting the skin on his side. "I was sincerely hoping that you would. Such a waste to see a beautiful and pure soul fade away."

"I," he panted, "will never fade away. I will always . . . live . . . in my father's heart. What he has given me . . . is something that no one can ever take away. Not even you!"

With his last words, he felt something rising up within him. Something strong and powerful. A white light filled his vision and he remembered no more.

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"What!" Edmund shrieked, his monitor blacking out. The last thing had appeared was the Vanderbucks woman falling backwards, the Shadows kid passing out. "What the hell is going on down there!"

"He's called upon his powers," a calm voice stated. "He's purified her."

Edmund turned to look at the speaker – man in his late forties, clad in a black suite – his eyes wide. "You mean . . ."

"Yes," the man nodded. "Everything Red Shadows had hoped for has come true. Silver Shadows is the bane to our existence."


	11. Chapter 11

He felt as if he'd grown wings. How or why, he couldn't say. He just knew, just felt . . . and that's all that mattered.

Before him trembled a weary and abused soul, confused by the actions that had just occurred. He could destroy her. It would be easy . . . but he didn't have it in him. He wasn't a killer.

_It's okay,_ he soothed. _It's okay . . . I won't hurt you . . . I want to help . . . Please . . . let me help you . . ._

She gazed at him, her green eyes shimmering with her fear and her hope. His lips tugged into a warm smile, stretching from one side of his face to the other, and he held out his hand.

_Everything will be fine when you awake . . . Go back . . . you're needed . . ._

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Trixie awoke with a start, her eyes blinking to shake off the grogginess. The last thing she recalled was taking a drink of some rather weird-tasting wine. Edmund Light had given it to her, stating it would help her to relax for when she saw Speed again. Everything beyond that had fuzzed over.

As she looked around, she saw no other signs of life. There were scorch marks all around but no sign of Edmund, no sign of Speed . . . it was like everyone had vanished into thin air.

"What happened?" she murmured to herself. "How did I get here?"

She heard a door opening then footsteps approaching. Trixie glanced in that direction, fear gripping her heart for a moment. Then she relaxed when she saw Racer X, along with Red Shadows' butler, coming towards her.

"Trixie, are you all right?" he inquired, crouching down next to her.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'm fine. I just feel . . . weird . . ."

"I can imagine," Racer X murmured. "I saw you in one of the monitors . . . Dimsley said the Lights were trying to use you to kill Speed."

"What?" Her eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when he said that.

"They were hoping you'd be the bane to his soul," the butler murmured. "But they didn't take the time to properly . . . prepare you, so to speak. Silver saw that . . . and he saved you."

"Where is he now?" Trixie croaked out, her throat having gone unbelievably dry.

"I'm afraid I don't know."

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Red allowed himself a small smile as the car drove towards the Lights' mansion. His son had passed the first test the world had to offer but he still had a long way to go.

'Don't worry, child. I'm coming. I'll be with you soon. We still have a lot more to go over.'


	12. Chapter 12

"Okay, Mr. Shadows," Pops began, turning to face the man, "where are . . ."

He paused in mid-sentence, his jaw dropping. As if he were smoke or something else more fluid, the man had disappeared. Sparky and Inspector Detector also turned around, to see why Pops had stopped.

"Where did he go?" Sparky inquired.

"He was here a minute ago!" the Racer patriarch blurted out.

"He couldn't have gotten too far," Inspector Detector stated confidently. "He's on foot. I'll call for back up then we'll go into the house and find out what's going on."

Pops just nodded, his heart sinking lower in his chest. He just wanted his son back and the only one who could make that happen was Red Shadows.

'I'll get you back, Speed,' he vowed. 'I swear I will.'

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Rex carefully guided Trixie through the rubble that was the inside of the Lights' mansion. She was still a bit shaky on her feet but Dimsley had assured them that it would pass. She just needed to move around a bit.

"Some food would be good, too," he had stated. "Make sure she eats something."

Rex had promised that he would then had proceeded to get them out of there. But the butler had been quiet after that. Very quiet. Almost as if he wasn't there anymore.

'That's insane,' he thought. 'There's no way a man can disappear into thin air.'

Still, he didn't want to take the chance. Too many strange things had occurred already and it had Rex frazzled. Tentatively, he turned his head to check on the older man. His eyes widened.

Dimsley was gone.

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Trixie fought back a groan as she did her best to step over debris. Her throat had gone dry, her entire body ached, and she wanted nothing more than to just take a nice, long hot bath to ease everything away. She was still worried about Speed but not nearly as much as she had been before.

'He's safe,' a little voice whispered. 'Safer than what you are at this moment.'

'Yeah,' she thought. 'He must be . . . he isn't in this disaster.'

Next to her, she felt Racer X pause and glance behind them. The old man, Dimsley, had been unusually quiet since they'd started to make their way through the house.

"Racer X? What is it?" she whispered. "Is Dimsley all right?"

"I don't know," he murmured. "He's gone."

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Red Shadows watched from the safety of the forest as Dimsley made his way towards him and as the girl was reunited with the son of the missing Racer boy. It had a bittersweet quality to it. They had suffered so much already. He didn't want to imagine what it would be like to lose a child.

As soon as his butler had reached him, Red turned around.

"Time to go, Dimsley. Silver is waiting for us."

"Yes, sir."


	13. Chapter 13

Silver opened his eyes and let out a rather sleepy yawn. Then he stretched himself out, ignoring his aching, protesting muscles as he did so.

Something had happened, something major. That much he was aware of. He also knew that a tragedy of some kind had been averted. How he knew this, he didn't know. It was actually more of a feeling than actual knowledge, and he felt good for simply knowing. Everything else, like his aching muscles, just happened to be secondary.

"Good morning, Silver," came a very familiar voice. "Breakfast is waiting for you. Your father will most displeased if you choose not get up again and join him."

Slowly, Silver sat up, noticing Dimsley standing in the doorway to his room. A surge of happiness coursed through him. For some reason, he hadn't expected to see the old butler or his father alive ever again. Yet there Dimsley was. Standing in his doorway in his usual butler outfit, and he was saying that his father was pretty much waiting for him at the breakfast table.

Forgetting his pain, Silver leapt out of his bed. He'd ask questions later. Right now, he just wanted to see his father.

"I'll be right down."

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Red read over various articles in the newspaper as he waited for his son to come down the stairs for breakfast. It had been a few days since he and Dimsley had found the boy unconscious in the forest. The first thing he'd done was seek out several of his family's healers to make sure that the boy would live. Even though Silver had passed his first trial and had beaten back the Light clan, they'd still win if he passed on. That was their true goal. To kill his son.

'I can't let that happen again. He wasn't ready. He got lucky,' Red told himself as his eyes read the article on the still missing Speed Racer. 'Very lucky.'

The sound of shoes clacking towards him alerted Red of Dimsley's approach and he glanced up. The butler stopped the customary few feet away from him.

"Silver is awake, Sir. He shall be downstairs for breakfast shortly."

A smile graced Red's features.

"That's very good to hear. Thank you, Dimsley."

"You are most welcome, Sir."

'Very good indeed. He's going to live. Now's the time to begin to train him in earnest.'

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"There still hasn't been any sign of them . . . has there?"

Inspector Detector glanced up from his paperwork at Pops Racer then he shook his head. The Mach 5 designer had been there for some time but this had been the first time he'd spoken since arriving.

"No. There hasn't. If Red Shadows has been making any purchases, it's either been with cash or he's having someone else making them. We haven't been able to find anything on him or Speed's whereabouts."

The large, bulky man let out a heavy sigh and slumped into the chair across from him. Despite his bulk, Pops didn't look very hot. His eyes, it seemed, had sunk into their sockets. He looked pale . . . almost like death warmed over. Inspector Detector frowned. However, Pops spoke up once more, before he had a chance to say anything to the man about his health.

"We're never going to find Speed again," he sighed. "If we do, he still won't recognize us as his family . . ."

"You're not giving up on the search, are you?"

To that, Pops nodded his head.

"We are. We can't keep this up . . . Rachel's health is deteriorating . . . quicker than what mine is and we still have a son to take care of at home. We need to think of Spritle now. Speed really is old enough to take care of himself, after all . . ."

"Mr. Racer, what Red has done is against the law," Inspector Detector pointed out. "He took Speed against his will. He . . ."

"Hasn't done anything wrong, in Speed's mind," the Racer patriarch stated. "We'd have to prove that Speed had been brainwashed by that man. We can't do that. Racer X told me he looked into Speed's eyes before he disappeared with Red. He saw no signs of brainwashing and he said he should know what they are, having helped those who've been brainwashed. Even if we did manage to get him back, he wouldn't be the same anymore . . . he might even hate us. That isn't something my wife and I can live with. As long as he's happy and healthy, that's all we care."

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Racer X listened quietly as Pops told Inspector Detector to call off the hunt for his brother and for Red Shadows. Then he slipped away.

He wasn't about to give up in the search for Speed. Though he understood where Pops was coming from, he knew he couldn't quit. Not now. Not until Speed was safely back at home.

'Don't worry, Speed. I'll find you. I swear that I will.'


End file.
